The Accident: Final Part. Happy Bastille Day!

by | Jul 14, 2023 | Uncategorized | 0 comments

The last card, came today is from a bloke called Robespierre. One of your French mates? It’s got a Paris postmark. It says Happy Bastille Day

As the fog cleared, and I took in my surroundings, I became aware of my visitors. On the left, my good ear and source of the voice, was my older brother John. To my right like an un-matching bookend in a charity shop, was my younger sibling, Tony.

Chalk and cheese. Calcium Carbonate and Mild Coloured Cheddar.

Easing myself up, I fought the stab of agony and managed a smile. However, it was a waste of time , my efforts hidden under an oxygen mask.

“You’re a lucky lad. You left a big hole in that Corsa. He won’t be driving for a while,” Tony said, removing my mask.

“Should you be doing that? Will I call a nurse?” My older brother said, frowning at Tony.

“Ah, he’ll be fine man. He’s come this far,” Tony replied, then addressing me, he continued, “you have a few bits missing Bro. Spleen and half a liver. Would have made a good fry-up with onions,” he chuckled.

“Give it a rest man. He nearly died.” John hesitated, “I mean he’s still very ill.”

“That’s right, tell him all about it,” Tony replied, with relish.

I groaned and tried to speak. My lips were dry and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. John picked up a tiny pink sponge on a stick and wet my lips. I sucked the moisture from the sponge and rinsed it around my mouth.

“Calm down you two. Where is she?” All I could think about was my Princess.

“Oh, she’s been here every day for three weeks. She went home to get some sleep a couple of hours ago,” John said, recharging the sponge.

“You’re a luck fella. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Where did you find her? Under the Christmas tree?” Tony quipped, with a huge smile and a wink.

“Jesus, is there no stopping you?” My older brother interjected. “Here, there are some cards for you. The kids, Aunty Margaret, The Dog and Rabbit. Also some weird ones. Peter Stringfellow? The Wizard of Oz? Some practical joker.”

“Stringfellow has been dead for years and the Wiz. is a fictional character,” I laughed and it hurt like Hell. The names meant nothing to me.

“The last card, came today is from a bloke called Robespierre. One of your French mates? It’s got a Paris postmark. It says Happy Bastille Day.” John read the card, which showed the obelisk at Place de la Bastille. Still, nothing came to me. The only people I knew in France were my friends Alain and Christine. Then I remembered, we were meant to be in Paris for Bastille day!

“Wait, did you say three weeks? What date is it?” I groaned and the big fella started jumping on my gut.

“Oh, here she comes, the queen of Sheba. You lucky bugger, ” Tony exclaimed, as the door opened. The pain subsided as I looked up at her exquisite face. She smiled and the dimples under her eyes appeared. Her hair was in a long golden plait like Rapunzel, hanging over one shoulder.

“Hello, Azizam, welcome back. Don’t worry, Paris can wait,” she breathed with that heady intonation. Netflix and Big Bang Theory. I smiled inwardly at my good fortune. John got up and offered his chair to my little Siren.

“Oh, by the way, it’s July fourteenth, Happy Bastille Day,” he said, smiling. Turning to Tony, his face straightened. “You. With me. Bacon sarnies in the canteen.”

“Now you’re talking Bro!” He looked at her, then at me and gave me the most exaggerated wink I’d ever seen. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he laughed as John pushed him out of the door.

She put a tiny hand on mine and somehow, despite the pain and missing parts, I considered my encounter with Corsa-Boy somewhat fortunate.

Happy Bastille Day!

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